It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Her steps slowed. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. It was wonderful. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone.
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